1). Ever since the Drimmer incident, he's been acting strangely friendly.
Shawn walks into the Santa Barbara police station, giving Juliet a cheery "morning" before waltzing off to the desk of his favorite head detective.
"Mornin', Lassie," he grins brightly.
Shawn pretends to be taken aback.
"Lassie-face, did you really just respond to my greeting civilly?"
Lassiter blushes very faintly but still noticeably enough for the fake psychic to pick up on it.
"Shut up, Spencer," he mutters with a small smile. Once again, enough for the hazel eyes to notice.
If I knew any better… Shawn thinks playfully. Only one way to find out.
He turns and swoons into Lassiter's lap. The head detective raises his arms in alarm, but his icy blue eyes sparkle with unheard mirth.
* * * * *
It's been a couple minutes now, and Lassiter hasn't motioned for Shawn to move. The detective reaches his arms around the brown haired man, typing on his computer, seemingly unfazed.
The younger of the two also has not made any indication of getting off of the detective's lap either. He starts to lean his head onto the salt and pepper hair when people begin to stare. Which is Lassiter's cue that he's acting too much out of character. His arms shoot up again.
"Spencer. Get off my lap."